Knox School - Rose Leaves Yearbook (Nissequogue, NY)

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. December Seventh Today was a typical Sunday at Knox,-almost .... It was four o'clock. Betty was washing her hair. YVe sat beside the tub, our feet on the sink, the Art History book open in our lap. We watched the cold wind play wirh the sifting snow. We saw it shove aside the branches of a tree and heard the rattle of the pane as it pushed against the window. Betty spattered water on the Art History book and applied the spray to a sudsy head. Carol came in, apparently from Tuck, a half- eaten candy bar in one hand. The other hand took us in in an exaggerated gesture, her eyes were wide. We're at war with japan, they've bombed Hawaiil The spray suddenly went limp and collapsed on the bottom of the tub. From beneath a mass of sopping hair came Betty's voice, rather wet around the edges but never- theless dehant. I don't believe it. But it's on the radio! With that bleak explanation Carol departed. I looked at Betty, who was slowly wrapping a towel around her head. Those kids are alarmists , she said, and we looked at each other w d ' 'f d' ' . on ering 1 ra ios were too December Eleventh ' Once more the ladders standing around the foyer, and the strong smell of pine, keep us constantly aware that Revel is almost here. We were ,up lat.e last night going over and over the dances. Some of those tunes we shall never get out of our heads. This is one of many such things that make Knox Knox. The world changes, years of rumblings, and now warg and still, as in every other year, the pine needles are sprinkled over the foyer rug and the little Christmas trees line the hall from the library to the dining room. The newspapers shout death on a hundred fronts, and yet we sing 'Hey for the Holly' with that little breathlessness at the end of the chorus. Revel makes us remember that festivity still lives in this world' December Fifteenth Shrieks of childish laughter . . . trays of pink ice cream . . . Ribbons, boxes, paper and toy-heaped chairs . . . a crowd of eager faces . . . The Chilclren's Christmas Party. January Tenth Once more we face the long winter term, which seems to stretch an infinite line of week between now and spring. The ,sharp clap-clap of ski boots echoes on the stair cases now on afternoons. From our gym, ieachng straight across the golf course in a long crisp trail, go ski tracks cut sharply into the creamed snow. The ski hill rises white and curving, covered with moving figures. january Twenty-Seventh Y'Ve're still getting over the blow the weather man dealt us at Placid last week- end. After being so careful about tags and addresses and not getting them mis- placed or put on the wrong train, we had no use for our skis, as there wasn't enough snow to make it worth while putting them on. Outside of this we had a lovely time. Northwood was its usual genial self and the Placid Club was as vast and enchanting as alwaysg so we really didn't miss skiing too much. Watching the jumping at Intervales made us forget our own prowess any way. February Sixteenth Late Friday saw crowds of people collected in the foyer having tea and as usual the sound of men's voices ann the smell of cigarettes struck a note that is caught only at Carnival. Friday night more men's voices from the assembly room, where the Union College Glee Club gave a marvelous concert . . . 'Phones jangling' upstairs and flower boxes piled on the desk . . . The rustle of evening dresses and the tall black and white of men in evening clothes . . . Orchestra music fading down the halls, and the last good night at 12:15 in the foyer. Saturday the Horse Show, and Madeleine Raymond winning the cup . . . Sherry's jammed for tea in the late afternoon . . . The carnival at night with Sheila's skating club taking over the part the whole school used to play and doing it beautifully . . . Dancing in the assembly, with the men in ski clothes dancing in their socks. - Sunday morning and people going out to breakfast .... Sunday afternoon, quiet, wilting corsages on cold window sills . . . hurting feet and tl1e thought of the work to be done before the morning classes . . . Carnival, a wonderful weekend. February Twemylighth Knox is beginning to look like a convalescent home, Ducky on her crutches, Phil Kihn recovering from appendicitis, poor Barbara Keppel, her arm constantly in a sling, suffering in silence, and today Lydia sprained her ankle on the ski tow. March Eleventh Only one more day to go and they'll be over. This morning before breakfast the tables outside the entrance to the dining room were a litter of books and notes. A couple of brilliant people dropped knitting into the general confusion. We haven't dared to appear in public this week with anything in our hands but books, and we envy people who can.kn1t at this point. April Eleventh There was snow this morning when our select little group met in the foyer. Did we have our sharpened pencils, No. 2's preferably? Did we have our glasses? Did we have anything in our heads that we needed for the seven hours of achievement test before us? lt didn't seem so. Tonight we go to bed, hoping against hope that Smith, Vassar, Bryn Mawr and Holyoke aren't as stiff as we're afraid they are. April Thirteenth Senior pledge tonight. 'We know now the feeling of truly belonging to Knox. We know now the importance of things before us. We feel, perhaps for the first time, how very much we'll miss this all and how much it's meant. More than that though, we see what it will mean and how vital these years have been. ' April Twentieth The redwing blackbirds are back. They dropped down in a clump of trees beside the tennis courts one afternoon last week. The crew shells are out on the lake, sliding along on the breeze, smooth and free, with only an occasional splatter of water. A 84

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November Fifth Faculty-Girl hockey game. just as we often don't understand the mental prowess of faculty, they didn't quite understand how the ball was for most of the game either in or near their goal, which Dingy defended to the bitter end. The game was really terrihc. Durick and Dixon are quite the greatest team of score keepers we've ever seen. At every interlude in the game, they'd tear wildly down the field waving sheaves of rules and blowing whistles. A good third of the playing time was spent in reviving Peet, who at regular intervals throughout the game collapsed on the ground, arms and legs akimbo. Whereupon the faculty, skirts flying and faces flushed with battle fand generous applications of rougej , would rush en masse and hover over her as Miss Merritt administered restoratives. Despite valiant efforts on the part of all faculty concerned, they lost the game but they sure are a grand bunch of good sports. November Eighth Today the old girls went savage and gave the new girls a party equipped with camp fire, peace pipe, and indians. Ginny Pope does a terrific indian dance when occasion warrants, and- she certainly put us in the mood tonight. November Tenth So nice to put on a sweater this morning instead of the uniform blouse that is getting a little feeble in the seams after four years at Knox. The occasion for the sweater was a trip to Canajoharie for a look at the Beech-Nut Plant and the art gallery. Beech-Nut gum has earned our everlasting respect. We'Il never see a stock of it without thinking of those great white rooms packed almost to the ceil- ings with piles upon piles of gum and sifted over everything, walls, floors, machin- ery, powdered sugar . . . powdered sugar everywhere. At one point the smell of peppermint was so heavy and cold in our nostrils that we opened our mouths for a breath and found our tongues with that sweetness of powdered sugar . . . lt was like being in a candy world. I November Fifteenth Ginny, let me see, please . O Chad, you're lovely . But Robin look at my mouth. I'm going to die if Mother doesn't let me have this one for the year book . Yes, the proofs of our graduation pictures came today. Miss XVOod's room looked as it does Class Day when the whole school swarms in, anxious for year books. lt makes you feel so grown-up to pour your proofs out of the envelopes. Then there is that maddening little piece of paper attached to them which covers up' the hrst picture and must be held out of the way in order to see any of them. When you do look, you can't quite believe it's you-and for goodness sake, why can't you look like that all the time? The Dramatic Club put on two interesting plays tonight. Phil Kihn surely loses herself in a character. Deag's makeup was wonderful-she even looked pious, which couldn t have been anything but makeup. November Nineteenth Luggage piled in the Foyer! Classes were spaces of creeping time during which, if you were leaving right after lunch, you crossed and uncrossecl silk stock- inged legs every two minutes and gnawed discreetly on your pearls because you couldn't possibly answer any question in the state you were in. If you weren't leaving right after lunch you tried to concentrate on paragraph 2 - page 56, and not be reminded of a million glamorous memories which the perfume of the girl next to you kept bringing to mind. You wished just as much as she that lunch was over and that she was well on her way to wherever she was going. Lunch was politely looked at, and escaped from as quickly as the hostess would excuse you. If you were leaving, you said, No, thank you to everything offered. If you weren't going away, you nibbled lettuce and wished that you were. November 'I'wenty4Sixth They're tearing down the house next door. The old red brick house, No, it never was very good looking. Rather drear, all empty and closed in the winter. But we remember a little old gardener who used to putter around the back yard about the middle of every April. I-le never seemed as if he were doing anything: but before graduation that yard was fringed in the bright. gold of daffodils, and crimson tulips made a pool of color in the green lawn. We remember it in the fall when the old iron gates to the driveway were open and cars came and went before the front door. The people were just closing it when we came back and somehow we've always liked it. lt's just an association with Knox. jackie Byrne won a poster contest for the Chinese Relief the other day. December First Take account of your time. Read the exam through carefully. No one is to ask anything about her exams until Friday in classes. Rising bell at seven thirty and those nasty little white squares of blotters, never quite large enough. I saw Miss - at lunch and she gave me the queerest look! That fifth question - . . . EXAM WEEK IS UPON US. December Third We take out a moment here from writing the past subjunctive of 'aller' to write of queer weather and a queer day to go with it. All week it's been like this. Cloudy and warm to the point of sluggishness. No rain but fog - a crawling dimness over the hills and lake - and today amid the weird wailing of a fire alarm came Dana's gruesome discovery at Council Rock. December Fourth It is over, that four days of exams is done with, and now we sit around and picture exactly where we made mistakes in that translation, and out of a clear sky we suddenly remember the correct meaning for that idiom we missed. j Things seem more normal' now. vVe all went to the movies tonight. Radios and Vics are once more being commissioned to hll the spare moments. 83

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April Twenty-Fifth . It is generally agreed that the sunporch looks like Coney Island. About three o'clock on any ol these sunny days it is impossible to step on it without treading on some upturned face or tripping over a bottle of olive oil. Am l getting burned? is a question asked at least every Hve minutes and if a wisp of white cloud happens to wander on the horizon, a great hue and cry is heard. Eskimo pies are now being served on the back porch. May First' The day began at six with a smothered hushing of whispers outside our door. jumping out of bed, we scurried to the door and there, hanging by a gay ribbon and all done up in paper lace, was the Fifth Form's gift of hyacinths and pansies. Senior day had begun. We couldn't go back to bed: so we donned our shorts and made several unsuccessful attempts with the lipstick before we looked sufhciently blatant. Eight o'clock found us peering out of the senior parlor doors at a black sky streaked with orange and saying lt can't happen here, not on Senior dayl But it did, it poured all through the picnic at Ferry Springs. By the time we got there we were soaked. Nothing daunted, we hung up our stuff by the fire and took turns frying the hamburgers with Liz Marsh as the big chief cook. After a lovely time of stuffing ourselves and singing songs, with Phelps to make us sound right, we scattered about the countryside. The sun came out eventually and made it a lovely day. 'Tonight after dinner at Sherry's we went to the movies, and now amid last minute revelry we are waiting for the ten-thirty deadline that will mark the end of a perfect day. It will be a long time before we forget this day. lt is drawn into our minds in a series of disjointed but indelible impressions. Phelps in a plaid shirt singing while she stacked up the coffee cups at the picnicg Steve relaxed against the fire- place just watching while we sang, Robin perched on the table edge, blue jeans rolled up just enough, her arms hugging a knee drawn up to her chin, Pumpy in a sweat shirt, her hair wet and dripping, those little trees scattered here and there over the countryside, laden with white blossoms now: bicycling down the wet road with white petals clinging to the black pavements and lying in rain- soaked patterns under the treesg a glimpse of a bluebird fluttering among budded branchesg the recurring glint and sparkle of raindrops on an evergreen as the sun shot from a bank of cloudsg jonquils and daffodils growing in clumps of color dripping wet but just a little ragged from the storm, the smell of the air as it blew olf the lake, a warm smell of sand touched with green, and now and then a wispy fleeting whiff of blossoms opening somewhere in the sung birds pricking holes in the day and pouring drops of song into each: Harriet walking down the road in her red raincoat, and Heisey almost hidden under that nor'easter but grinning from ear to ear and chuckling as only Heisey can. We're going to miss the kids next year. Our feet hurtg and we don't like to admit it, but we're sleepy. May Ninth Tennis balls bopping back and forth on the courts from Eve on every morn- ing . . . the crew shells sliding away from the boat house every afternoon . . . the effect of the sunporch showing in people's faces . . . spring uniform . . . the foyer door always open . . . this is Spring at Knox. May Fifteenth The Lower School Garden Party was Alice in Wonderland. We ate ice cream afterwards and lingered around on the back porch long enough to be reasonably late for study hall. Only about three weeks more. It doesn't seem possible that today we sent out our invitations to graduation. So many years, and now sud- denly only three weeks. May Twenty-third The apple trees near the stable look like puffs of cotton candy blown white today. Blackbirds sang down by the stream, and flags Huttered from the brush jumps. The Spring Show was lots of fun. The girls looked marvelous in their stocks, derbys, and polished boots. The horses shone in the sunlight and muscles rippled as they LOOK the jumps. It is alumnae weekend and the song contest is perfect. We almost wept as each form turned and sang us a farewell song. ' May Thirtieth Despite our longing to be out dabbing our feet in some stream and picking wild flowers, finals began yesterday and we must resign ourselves to blue books and study. . June Fourth The trunks are gone, but a smell of camphor still lingers in the halls. Our room is bare and we are wondreing how we are ever going to cram the graduation dress into that small suitcase. Parents, aunts, and uncles have been arriving all day. The building is Hlled with bustle and commotion. Lantern Parade and Glee Club were lovely. Sometime we are coming back just to stand on the porch and see what the Lanterns really look like. June Fifth Class Day went by in such a whirl we can only remember bits right nowg the crew race this morning and the leaping excitement as we came down the lake and heard the cheering on the shore grow louder and louder. Luncheon, awarding of Dixie Cups, the consciousness of our new Class Day dresses, the heat. Class Day exercises against the background of lawn dappled with tree shadows and the blue lake beyond. Tonight the dance, and now we are tired, already a little sad, and very excited. June Sixth We walked up the aisle in the assembly hall knowing each familiar step so well and yet feeling that we had never done it before. We remember the flowers we carried trembled a little in our hands at the end. A listless breeze ruflled the curtains during the address and the Faculty looked unfamiliar in their black robes. The rest is a blur of rushing up stairs and locking the suitcase, of weeping, and hugging people, of glancing out of a window and longing to stay and look at the lake just once more. Tears and goodbyes and the Final trip up the driveway, the pillars suddenly hidden by the trees and the trees blurring with our tears. 85